


hide in my music, forget the day

by fivehole (stopmopingstarthoping)



Series: Hope's Kinktober 2019 [4]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fingerfucking, Marijuana, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 22:10:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21083900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping/pseuds/fivehole
Summary: Lardo giggles, snorting a little, and catches Shitty giving her one of those looks, a look she’s getting used to seeing. It traces over her face like the touch of a light fingertip, and has a little bit of unguarded wonder in it, still, even after she’s made it well inside his flippant wall of banter and cleverness.  She’d caught him looking at her like this once, a while ago now, and realized he’d been looking at her like that for a long time and she’d never noticed.





	hide in my music, forget the day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roadsoftrial](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadsoftrial/gifts).

The bass is loud in the three-level house just off State Street; between the volume and the keg and the faint, sweet smell of weed this might as well be an undergrad party. 

Except there are also classy microbrews in the fridge, and as Lardo helps herself to one at the insistence of the host, she thinks she could get used to this. She tips the neck of it at him in a small salute, mentally toasting the existence of trust funds, and winds her way back through the crowd. 

It's busy but chill; no one screams, no one pukes. A small group of people start dancing in the room with the stereo, and another crowd assembles on the back deck to smoke. 

These kids work hard during the week; they're mostly too tired to get too wild, if what she hears from Shitty is anything to go on. She grins to herself at calling a group of 22-year-olds _ kids,_ and savors the beer and the pounding drums of the Black Angels.

More wandering, and in the corner of the next room she finds what she's looking for. Shitty, reclined in a corner. He's somehow straddling a chair and leaned up against the wall at one time, and even though she can still see the sleeplessness around his eyes, he looks more relaxed than she's seen him in a long time. 

The tunes change to Franz Ferdinand, and she grins. Predictable, maybe, but it's refreshing after some of the pretentious shit she's suffered through at art student parties. Sometimes a girl just wants to swing a booty. 

She does, slyly, making her way over to where Shitty's sitting. 

"Hey, babe." 

He smiles at her, framed by wavy reddish-brown strands that are already growing longer. She's itching to run her fingers through it. Lardo notices the one-hitter in Shitty's hand and returns his grin with a devious flair. 

"Share with me?" 

"Crossfading, eh?" He drawls the words at her, already well on his way to being fully relaxed. 

She shrugs, nods, takes another swig of beer. 

He stands up and draws her in by the fingers as if they’re somewhere special, and not a noisy kegger down the block from the law school. The song changes tempo, and a few people start singing along. 

Lardo giggles, snorting a little, and catches Shitty giving her one of those looks, a look she’s getting used to seeing. It traces over her face like the touch of a light fingertip, and has a little bit of unguarded wonder in it, still, even after she’s made it well inside his flippant wall of banter and cleverness. She’d caught him looking at her like this once, a while ago now, and realized he’d been looking at her like that for a long time and she’d never noticed.

She’s noticing now, and it’s Lardo’s turn for a contagious expression, a devious dip to her lip and a small tilt to her head.

Shitty takes a long drag, closing his eyes, and bends down to not-quite-brush Lardo’s lips. She notices, not for the first time, that his eyelashes are criminally long before she breathes in, and fruity, earthy smoke flows over her lips. 

After a moment, she turns her head and exhales, and they do it again. This time, before she can exhale, she feels fingers slide into the back of her hair and the tickle of mustache hair before the gentle press of lips. Smoke flows back into Shitty’s mouth, wisps out of both of their noses, and makes little trails out from between their kiss as they pause for breath.

It’s all smoke and lips and tongues from there, and after a few minutes Lardo peers over her shoulder at the people playing beer pong in a brightly-lit kitchen. She gives Shitty a look, and it’s her turn to be unnecessarily graceful as she takes his hand and leads him from the room with a trailing arm. 

His walk is rolling, hip-led and lazy as he follows her, one-hitter cupped backwards into his hand. 

“You got a specific destination in mind, babe?” 

She flicks a gaze back at him again. 

“Just lookin’ for a dark corner.”

He trails slowly behind her, and Lardo can feel eyes on her, so she sways her hips again just for his benefit. 

They find an empty bedroom just as “More Than A Feeling” starts blasting from the living room, and Shitty scowls upwards and laughs a little.

“Man, I hate this fucking song.”

Lardo laughs back at him. “Yeah? ‘Cause it reminded me of you, just now.”

He hooks fingers into her belt loops, pulls her to him, and shakes his head in mock disappointment. 

“Why ever the fuck?”

She talks as Shitty starts to press little kisses against her jaw, and shivers a little at the tickle of lips and hair.

“Oh, you know, bombastic, cheesy, pretty old, full of itself…”

Shitty nips, and Lardo yelps and giggles. 

“I mean, also, charming.” Her voice trails off into a husky low tone before she tips his chin back up to her lips with a finger.

Shitty’s retort is caught in his throat as she walks him back into the wall and shuts the door. It’s been a while since they had decent alone time when neither of them was asleep, about to be asleep, studying, or stressing, and she presses her advantage, satisfying the urge finally to twist fingers into auburn hair. It’s thick and soft and she feels the individual hairs roll over her skin as she curls it around her fingers.

He bends his height to her, and she can tell he’s feeling just as pent up as she is. Stupid, that it’s taken a silly college party and some weed to get them to find their way back into each other’s pants when they live together, but there it is.

Warm hands slide under her shirt and dip under the waistband of her jeans. The music shifts to something more modern and slow-drum-driven, and she takes full advantage. Filled with a warm, mellow looseness, she moves slightly to the beat and inches her body closer, erasing any remaining space between them. 

She looks over at the door: no lock, but she’s feeling like taking a little risk. Lardo pops the button on her own jeans without breaking the seal of their lips. Shitty murmurs a little in surprise but doesn’t stop the path of his fingers downward, under the cotton fabric of her panties, and inside.

There’s a knowing chuckle in the back of his throat when his fingers slip between her lips— and they do slip; she’s wet and wanting and reaches down to squeeze Shitty hard in return. He groans and pushes his hips into her, acknowledging that she’s not the only one with a one-track mind tonight. 

Soon, though, she’s consumed with rocking against the pressure of his fingers, light and teasing and then steady and firm, and she gasps, quietly, into his chest, darting a paranoid glance at the door before squeezing her eyes shut tight. He smells like smoke and beer and traces of deodorant and coffee and clean laundry, and she holds on as he holds her through it.

Lardo breathes, and lets go of the clenched fists she’s made in Shitty’s buttondown shirt, because she guesses he wears these now; a vague thought in the back of her mind that grad school is fancy surfaces before she grins it out of existence and spreads her fingers out, rolling them over the nipples underneath.

That gets her a very good reaction, and Shitty grabs her hand.

“Would love to continue this at home, hey?”

“We gonna blow each other’s minds, or make out and fall asleep?”

“Flip for it.”

They laugh again, and Shitty presses his forehead to hers before kissing her softly on the lips.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, and Lardo knows he doesn’t just mean this party. 

Wide-eyed and contemplative, they stare at the streetlights passing by outside the rideshare home, at each other, at their hands laced together in the backseat.

Lardo fits her shoulder into the space under Shitty’s arm like she’s always been there, and he bends his elbow behind her head to play with her hair as the car winds through the night toward home.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for "shotgunning" prompt for Day 19 of Kinktober and the prompt "It reminded me of you." from roadsoftrial for my 100 Ways Challenge! Comments and kudos are love.


End file.
